Rua Read online

  “Hey.” Tink poked her back with his pencil.

  “What?” she asked under her breath.

  “Why is Rylan staring at you creepy-style?”

  She glanced to her right. He was seated on the far edge of the classroom, up against the wall, next to Jennifer. He sat sideways in his forward-facing desk, back against the wall, staring at her. When their eyes met, her heart tumbled into her stomach.

  “Whatever,” she mumbled to Tink.

  When the bell rang, she followed Tink out into the hallway. Jennifer and Rylan walked in front of her. As she watched, Jennifer leaned her back against the locker, and Rylan put one hand behind her head and leaned against her.

  Some glue inside her snapped, because before she knew it, her eyes were swelling with tears. She swiveled on her heel and walked in the other direction.

  “That’s it.” Tink grabbed her hand and led her out the side door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked him.

  “We’re ditching,” he said. “But you need to run now so we don’t get caught.”

  She did, following him across the grassy field, squeezing between poorly locked chain-link gates, and finally crawling under the partially folded bleachers lining the football field. It was a little dark and musty, but they were completely hidden from view.

  She leaned against a support post, face still streaked with tears. “Thanks.”

  “What’s happening to you?” he asked. “I’m seriously concerned. If I ever have to eat lunch with fat Edith again, I’m going to die.”

  “I can’t talk about it. You’re gonna think I’m wacko.”

  “No, I won’t. But I do have something that will make you feel better.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a water bottle.

  “Oh, no thanks. I’m not thirsty.”

  “It’s not a matter of thirst, my dear.” He unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to her. She took a sip and let the liquid fill her mouth. It burned a fire to her stomach, mixing in with her lunch in a not-so-pleasant way.

  “Yuck. Vodka?”

  “Yep.” He retrieved the bottle from her and took a deep swallow. “Keep it in my locker for emergencies.” He handed it back to her, and she took another gulp. “Well, start talking.”

  “I’ve had a rough day. Weird stuff all night, so no sleep. Birds still around this morning, then I was late, then when I came in I went straight to the counselor. My life sucks.” She took another swig of vodka. She didn’t drink often, so it hit her hard. Her fingers were already nice and tingly. “And then I have to watch her and Rylan, and it pisses me off so much, and I hate myself for it.”

  Tink extracted the bottle from her hands. “Pace yourself. We’ve got all day.” He took a small sip then set it down between them. “There are two reasons it pisses you off to see them together. First off, miss nasty is a raging, fake, you-know-what. Second, and more important, you like Rylan. Really, really like him. Maybe you don’t want to, but you do.”

  “Crap.” She tapped the back of her head against the post. “It’s pathetic. Am I that obvious?”

  He patted her knee. “It’s written all over your little face.”

  “Great.”

  “Just give me the word and I’ll shank that girl right in her muffin top. You know I will.”

  They dissolved into laughter. “You are so wrong, yet so right.” She laughed so hard she snorted. “She doesn’t have a proper muffin top for you to shank.”

  “That’s because she doesn’t eat.” He scooted next to her and put his arm around her. “What’s really going on here?”

  “Whaddya mean?” She rested her head against his bony shoulder.

  “There are some weird things happening. They center around you. I’m not stupid.”

  She sat up so she could look at his face. It was full of concern. In this moment, hidden underneath the bleachers and warm with vodka, she felt safe.

  Very quietly, she said, “It started with nightmares.”

  She told him everything: the birds, the nightmares, Rylan, the shrink, the shadows. Everything. He was silent while she spoke, occasionally squeezing her shoulder if her voice got shaky.

  When she finished, he was quiet.

  “So, do you think I’m crazy?”

  He smiled. “Nope. The birds – that’s proof right there something is happening to you.”

  She smiled. “Really? You don’t think I’m nuts?”

  “Hell to the no. I’m totally freaked, but I know it’s not in your head. Something weird is going on around here.”

  “Well, what do you think?”

  He stood and paced back and forth in the small space. “Let’s be logical, if we can. Based on what Rylan said, and the shrink, and how this is ramping up…”

  “What?” she said.

  “I mean, isn’t it obvious? Something is going to happen on your birthday.”

  It was obvious. Why hadn’t she seen it before? “Of course, you’re right, but what?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good, right?”

  “No.”

  “What’s today?” he asked.

  “Friday.”

  “When’s your birthday?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow, May 1.”

  “What? Then we don’t have much time.” He offered his hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We need to eat; cover up the alcohol on our breath. Then we need to find Rylan. He knows something,” he said. “Do you know anything about your biological parents?”

  “Nope.”

  “Time to do some research.”

  By the time they emerged from their safe cocoon, school had long been let out. They made a pit stop at a fast-food joint.

  “Where to?” he asked as they idled in the parking lot.

  “My place. My parents’ date night is tonight, so they won’t be home.”

  “Ew.” He drove to her parents’ house, parking on the street. “Let’s do this.”

  She led him inside, turning on all the lights in the house.

  “Okay, how much time do we have?” He checked his watch. “It’s 5:30 right now.”

  “Probably till about seven or so, more if they see a movie.”

  “Okay, let’s call it seven. Where do they keep their, um, grown-up document stuff?” he asked.

  “I think in their bedroom. You,” — she gestured to the couch — “wait here. I don’t want you digging around in there. That would be weird.”

  “Okay.”

  She went into her parents’ closet. She moved around some hanging clothes and saw what she was looking for: a small, gray, fireproof safe. The key was in the lock. She’d seen it every time they moved so she knew it had important stuff in it.

  It was too heavy to pick up, so she pushed it in front of her into the living room.

  “Sweet.” Tink picked it up and put it right in front of the couch.

  She opened it and flipped through the files. Mortgage, car, wedding, adoption. “Bingo.” She pulled out the file and put it on the side table.

  Tink sank into the couch next to her. “Well, you ready?”

  “I guess.”

  She opened it. The first few pages were boring stuff. A court order granting her parents managing conservatorship, then a few pages further on, an order granting them an adoption, including a name change from “Celeste” Jane Doe to Celeste Shreeve.

  Tink flipped through the pages. “Boring, boring, boring. We need to see the affidavits that came along with your adoption and see if you have a birth certificate.”

  “Okay, counselor.” She flipped a couple more pages. “This one says ‘Affidavit’ at the top.”

  “Read it,” he prompted.

  “It says ‘I, Sgt. Lowks, of the 14 ladder of Los Angeles, California, hereby attest to the following. On or about May the –”

  “Skip the intro stuff.”

  “Okay.” She skimmed over the rest of the page. “At or around two o’
clock in the morning, we heard a knock on the fire station door. I opened the door and observed an infant in a car seat. There was a note card tied to the handle of the car seat. See note affixed hereto as A.”

  She flipped to the next page, which had an “A” sticker on the top and a photocopy of an index card with large, neat, looping handwriting.

  She held it in shaking hands.

  I’m sorry – I can’t do this.

  Celeste. Exactly Three weeks old.

  She’s Dangerous.

  Big drops of water fell on the paper.

  Tink gently pulled it out of her hands. “Don’t damage it, doll.” His eyes skimmed over the text.

  “Dangerous?” She collapsed her head into her hands.

  He patted her shoulder. “You’re not dangerous. Or maybe you are, but I’m not afraid.”

  She chuckled despite her tears. “Thanks.”

  He picked up the stack of papers and flipped through them. “Let’s see what else we have. Oh, here’s your original birth certificate.”

  She snatched it out of his hands. “Name: Celeste Jane Doe. Father: Unknown. Mother: Unknown. Place of birth: Unknown.” She used the edge of her hand to wipe left-over moisture from her face. “Well, that’s not helpful at all.”

  “False. We know there is no info about where you came from. That’s a fact you didn’t know before, so that’s something,” he said.

  “Whatever you say. Let’s put this stuff away before they get back.”

  She picked up the documents, put them back in a neat stack, and re-filed them. She pushed the file cabinet back into her parents’ closet, shut the door, and returned to the couch.

  “Now what?” she said.

  “Do you have any sage?”

  “What?”

  “Sage. You know, sticks of sage to burn,” he said.

  “Um, no.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What kind of supernatural person are you? I think I have some in my car.” He returned a minute later with a small, plastic bag.

  “What kind of person carries around sage?” she asked.

  “I’m Wicca.”

  “You’re a witch?”

  “Oh, please. Don’t be one of those. The craft is more like a nature based religion, nothing sketch. It’s in my family. My grandmother taught me all this stuff.” He pulled out a bunch of silvery green sticks of sage tied together with red string. “Do you have any salt?”

  “Sure.” She dug through the cabinet until she found a tall container her mom used to refill the shaker. “Here.”

  “Right on. We’re going to make a circle of protection around your house, and once around your room, too. Then we’ll cleanse with sage.”

  “Um, all right.”

  Once outside, Tink poured an almost invisible, but definitely-there line of salt, right next to the foundation. Every few feet, he closed his eyes and said few words under this breath. His black-painted fingernails clutched the container, lightly shaking the salt, working to protect her. He’d only known her a short time, knew all of the bad stuff, and was still here, by her side, trying to help her in any way he could. She snuggled against his waist to give him a quick hug.

  “Wow, chica. Give a guy a heads up. I’m trying to make you a circle!” he said.

  “I’m just really glad you’re here. It means a lot to me.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you told me.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’m at my touchy-feely max. Let’s get this done.”

  They finished outside then he went into her room. He asked her to stay completely quiet while he made a circle of salt around the baseboards in her room, muttering words the entire time. When he was done, he drew some symbols under her bed in chalk and plopped down a couple of crystals from his pocket on the floor.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “A protection spell. It’s all I can do in a pinch without all my supplies, but I’ll work on some stronger stuff tonight.”

  “Wow. Thanks.”

  “Oh, this too. Let’s cover our bases. He pulled down the front of his t-shirt, revealing a tiny cross on a necklace. He unclasped the chain and draped it on her headboard. “Hurry, let’s get the sage done before your parents get here.”

  They lit the sage and went through the house, moving it up and down, making circles and squares around the windows until the entire house smelled like a forest.

  “Okay.” He rolled the sage between his fingers until it was snubbed out. “It’s 6:55. I still think we need to find Rylan. Do you have his number?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm. Maybe Jennifer will have it,” he said.

  “Probably. Yuck.”

  “You stay here so you can greet your ‘rents. I’ll stop by her house on my way home to see if I can get it. I’ll text you what happens, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks for everything,” she said.

  “Of course, my dear.” He pulled her to his scrawny chest. “It’ll be okay. That circle should keep away anything that means you harm.”

  “I’m hopeful.”

  He bounded out to his car in the darkening twilight.

  She barely had time to take a breath before her parents pulled in the driveway.

  “Hey, sweetie!” Her dad walked in and kissed her cheek, her mom right behind him.

  She couldn’t help but smile at her parents. Every week, they dressed up and went out on a date. Her father looked handsome in his charcoal pants and blue button-down. Her mom wore a form-fitting black dress and four inch heels. More than once, Celeste wished she shared some genes with her good-looking parents.

  Her mom lifted her head to sniff the air. “It smells weird in here. What is that?”

  “Um,” — Celeste paused, debating on whether a truth or lie would be the best — “well, my friend came over and we burned some sage. You know, purification.”

  She plunked her clutch down on the counter. “Oh? Which friend? Tink?”

  “Yes, him.”

  “You know my rule about boys coming over when we’re not home,” her father said.

  “He’s gay. Really, really gay.”

  “Oh, okay then.”

  She sat on the recliner while her parents sat next to each other on the couch. “So, how was your first session?” her mother asked.

  “It was fine.”

  Her parents exchanged a look. “What do you mean by ‘fine?’” her mom asked.

  “Fine, okay, asi-asi, however you want to say it.”

  “Oookkkaay,” her mom said. “Message received. You don’t have to talk about it, but we do need to talk about your birthday.”

  She tried to hide the panic on her face. She’d been pushing it to the back of her mind, but Tink was right. Something was going to happen. She cleared her throat. “Oh, let’s not make a big hoopla over this one, please?”

  “How about dinner with us? Want to invite any friends?” her dad asked.

  “Tink?”

  “Great. We’d love to meet him. What kind of cake do you want?” her mom asked.

  “Um, chocolate with chocolate frosting.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She flipped it open and read the text message from Tink. She said she won’t give it to me, but I can tell she’s lying. She doesn’t have his number! Hah!

  She smiled and texted back. Kay, guess we’ll talk to him tomorrow.

  …

  After she ate the leftovers her parents brought home, Celeste went to her room. She immediately turned off all the lights and changed into her pajamas. She needed to get a head start on sleeping, since she’d probably be interrupted.

  She propped open her window and leaned out. The night air felt good on her arms and, if she squinted, she barely made out the line of salt beneath her window. She examined the trees in her backyard, but saw nothing.

  She left the window open and crawled into her bed. She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for whatever was to come during the night.

  But the next time she
opened her eyes, it was daylight and her birthday.

  CHAPTER 7

  She grabbed her phone and looked at the time. 9:00 a.m.

  Her door squeaked open. “Is that my birthday girl I hear stirring in there?” her mom asked, poking her head in.

  Celeste groaned and sank back into her pillows. Her dad pushed the door open, and he and her mother burst into a loud rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

  Celeste made faces and pretended to use the pillows to block her ears, but truth be told, they did it every year and it always made her smile.

  “Thanks,” she said when they were done.

  “Happy birthday, baby!” Her dad put a small blue box tied with a pretty white bow on her comforter. “From me and your mom.”

  She shook it next to her ear. “Jewelry?”

  “Open it,” her mom said.

  She pulled off the small bow and opened the box. Nestled against a cream-colored tiny pillow was a half-moon pendant on an impossibly slender sliver-colored chain. “Oh, pretty!” She pulled it out of the box and held it up to the light.

  “You like it?” her dad asked.

  “I love it. You know I love silver.” She cupped the pendant against her hand.

  “Actually, it’s platinum. Don’t lose it,” her dad said.

  “Oh, my gosh!” She got out of bed and squeezed her parents together so she could hug them both. “It’s perfect. Thanks! I love you guys so much.”

  As she stood in her room, between her dad’s arm and her mom’s shoulder, she wondered if this would be the last “normal” day of her life.

  Her mom stepped out of her embrace. “Are you up, up?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay. What do you want for breakfast?” she asked.

  “Anything?”

  “Anything you want,” she said.

  “Coffee with hot chocolate mixed in, waffles, and bacon.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I don’t even know if we have any hot chocolate,” her mom said, casting a glance in her husband’s direction.

  “We do, and it’s her birthday. It’s fine.” He winked at Celeste.

  “Fine, fine.” Her mom bustled out of her room, followed quickly by her dad.

  After he shut the door behind him, she grabbed her cell phone off her nightstand. She pulled up the latest message from Tink and hit reply. Holy crap! Your circle worked – nightmare free! Thks!